of memories never told
by Aleslytherin
Summary: This work is a collection of oneshots about the marauders, each chapter deals with a episode not described in the books. 1 - Peter Pettigrew: The rat in Hyde Park 2- Sirius Black: One's name holds their grudges 3- Remus Lupin 4- James Potter
1. The rat in Hyde Park

Peter didn't know how he had ended up sitting on that bench; one minute he was in his apartment, laying on his bed gaze directed towards the grey bare walls of his room, exhausted after his meeting with the Dark Lord, and the next one he sat in Hyde Park shivering in October's freezing air.

Small puffs of vapor came out of his mouth, his breath seemed almost white against the darkness surrounding him. The only source of light was the street lamp beside his bench, its glow creating an unsettling atmosphere.

Peter was disturbed by the silence present in Hyde Park. He had to admit it, he almost never went out; but from the few times he had been there he remembered the park as a lively place; at that moment it looked like the perfect location for a murder.

Peter almost had an heart attack when he heard some footsteps closing on him from behind; he stiffened in fright, the fallen leaves surrounding the bench crackling as someone approached, but when he turned around he met his friend beaming smile. At the sight of James Potter's amused expression Peter couldn't help but frown as guilt stung his soul. The cheerful eyes glittering with mischief behind rounded glasses almost sent him in a fit of crying.

Uff! I had almost got you! James said annoyed that his friend had noticed him his words followed by a little giggle ; Peter sighed and looked at his shaking hands, unable to hold James' joyful gaze.

Peter heard James getting closer to him and when he looked up he met his friend's hazel eyes, What's the matter, Peter? You look troubled. said James, whose smile turned into a worried frown.

Peter couldn't bring himself to speak because of the remorse that was eating him alive.

James clouded up at his friend silence, put an hand on Peter's shoulder and tried to comfort him Listen Peter, if you're worried about being my secret guardian, you can be sure that me and the others won't let You-Know-Who get to you.

That was it for Peter, the final blow; like a knife trusted in his heart. He broke out sobbing and as he cried the scenery started dissolving, James features blurred and the shadows engulfed him. Then Peter found himself in his bed once again, it was just a dream.

Only when Peter noticed the tears spilling from his eyes he understood what he had done. Salty droplets cascading on an already damp pillow.

He had betrayed his friend, he had told James' hiding place to the Dark Lord. Because of him an innocent child was going to die. Due to his cowardice many would suffer. Peter was now a filthy traitor and his betrayal set forth James death.

(465) words

Author's Note:

Hello everyone! I'm sorry for any mistake you may find but English is not my first language.

This is my first one-shot so I'll gladly accept all constructive criticism.


	2. One's name holds their grudges

When the man opened his eyes he found himself surrounded by darkness. He was shaking violently because of the cold, the cold sinking in his bones and making him doubt the existence of such thing as warm.

Who was he? Where was he? The man couldn't recall. His own name was there, lingering in his head; like something out of focus, he knew it was there but he couldn't grasp what it was.

The man gave up and instead focused on his surroundings: By now his eyes were used to the dark and he managed to see that the room had concrete walls and he could distinguish the faint outline of bars where the door was meant to be. Bars? Perhaps he was in prison. Oddly enough he didn't find it strange.

From what he could see, the outside was as dark as the cell, if it was day or night he could not tell.

He heard the rain pour down from the sky like it wanted to wreck the entire building. He could discern the sound of waves angrily crashing against rocks; then he noticed the screams, they must've been there all along. He realised he had not noticed them earlier because he must have been used to hearing people cry out all the time. What kind of sick place had he ended up in?

The man gaze lingered outside the door once again, and he saw it. A monster, a dark silhouette of a manlike thing, a long torn black cloak covered the creature and grey hand came out of it, the wizened fingers looked like claws and as the beast turned his head he could swear he saw no face. He felt even more terrified than he already was.

The thought finally occurred to him: the creature was a dementor and, if it was so then he was a wizard and he was in Azkaban.

The dementor was escorting a trembling person, he was short, thick-bodied and covered by a green heavy cape; in one hand he held a lantern and in the other was clenched a wrinkled newspaper.

When the newcomer approached his cell the prisoner was confused, did he know him? Apparently, it was so. He decided to act as normal as he could, maybe if he put his hand on the newspaper he could earn some information about his still forgotten name.

The prisoner cleared his throat; when he talked his voice came out raspy like he hadn't spoken for years or like he had screamed too much. "Ehm, Hello, the weather is quite awful today, don't you think?" his words followed by an uncertain and tired smile, he clearly remembered that the weather was a good way to start a conversation.

What he didn't expect was the other's reaction. His eyebrows rose up, his eyes widened like saucers and his jaw fell.

He appeared utterly shocked, the man had the same expression of someone who had just witnessed a miracle. Right after he scrunched his nose, maybe he was not so pleased about said 'miracle'.

So, probably, they weren't friends. Not that he could imagine getting along with somebody like him. By observing the way the bulky man carried himself, he assumed he was stuck up and full of himself.

Still, the prisoner decided to play nice and continued talking.

"Well, do you need that newspaper of yours? I love crosswords and it's been ages since I last attempted solving one." The other's mouth was agape once again, eyes almost snapping out of his head, but the prisoner decided to continue. "So, if you don't mind, can I have it?"

The other, apparently to confused to refuse, handed him the folded paper while frowning and for the first time spoke " Are you still sane?" The prisoner shrugged. "Apparently."

Irritated, the weighty man, turned on his heels and walked away with the dementor; when he turned around to take another worries look at the prisoner he was waving and smirking.

As soon as the visitor got out of sight the man opened the newspaper. The front-page article was about a family winning some prize, the idea of family left in him a bitter feeling. Probably he didn't like his own relatives.

Curiosity got the best of him and he looked at the article, apparently the family had used the prize on a vacation to Egypt.

He looked at the picture: Around those who must have been the parents there were six young men and a little girl, most of them probably still went to Hogwarts. A bell rang in his head, did he know them? He looked better at the picture and froze.

On the shoulder of a boy with a long nose there was a mouse. It looked familiar so he observed it better. A finger of the right paw was missing and his memories hit him like a tsunami. He knew that rat.

His name was Sirius Black. He was in Azkaban for selling his best friend, James Potter, to Voldemort. He was innocent. That filthy rat, Peter Minus, was the guilty.

Then he realized: Harry, James' son, should have been studying in Hogwarts too. Peter could harm him. He wasn't going to allow that. Sirius was going to get out of this hellhole, in one way or another.

Author's Note

I finally managed to write about Sirius, one of my favourite characters in Harry Potter, and I have to say that I loved it; so, I hope that others will enjoy reading this story as much as I loved writing it.


End file.
